Playmate
by FracturedMirror
Summary: (Crowley x Kevin) When Crowley retakes the throne of hell, he brings back his favorite little prophet to keep him amused. [Warnings: Mostly Crowley pushing Kevin's buttons, language, severe flirtations, Rated M for possible mature themes later on. Set somewhere in the future, so it might stray further from the canon storyline as time goes on. I suck at summaries! I'm sorry!]
1. Chapter 1: Adjustments

The world was spinning. His head ached, but compared the normal piercing pain it was a dull throb. He remembered the veil. He remembered going with his mother. He tried hard to ignore the pain in his heart. Of course. The Winchesters must have done it. They must've managed to re-open the gates of Heaven. He must've moved on.

He knew of Heaven. What was his Heaven like? He opened his eyes, waiting for them to refocus. It took a minute for the blurriness to clear up. This was his Heaven?

He was lying on a rich red soft sofa, accented with a burgundy mahogany frame. It was soft, maybe softer than any couch he had ever laid down on, but it was hardly Heaven. Frankly it looked like he was sitting in an office.

The sofa was sitting against the east wall, a large bookcase towering beside it. A grand, intricately carved desk was the center of the room. It was clearly made from the same wood as the sofa. There was a set of armchair facing the desk, again, the same woodwork as the sofa.

His breath hitched in his throat. That wasn't his imagination. He could've sworn there was someone sitting at the chair at the desk. The back of the chair was turned towards him. An angel? He heard the shuffling of paper. There was someone there.

"Excuse me…?" he was ashamed to say that there was a squeak in his voice. Why did his throat feel so dry?

The chair turned to face him slowly, revealing a familiar face. An expensive suit, a designer tie, and that unforgettable smirk. Well-reigned control and an unmatched confidence.

Kevin's face twisted with rage as he spat, "Crowley!"

"None other, darling. Nice to see that you've woken up. I'll admit you made a rather delicious sleeping beauty," he calmly set the papers he had been looking through on his desk.

"I'm…? I'm in hell? How is that possible?" his voice darkened, "What did you do?"

"Oh, calm down. I pulled some strings. King of Hell after all. I got you your life back. Isn't that sweet of me?"

"I don't care what you want me to do. I won't. I'd rather be dead than become your underling," he voice was still trembling with anger. He knew that the last thing you wanted to do in front of Crowley was to let him push your buttons. He was beyond caring.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I didn't bring you back for that. Although that does sounds like fun," he swayed a bit in his chair, clearly contemplating.

"Then why did you bring me back?" he gasped, "Let me guess. You're going to use me as a bargaining chip against Sam and Dean. "

"Oh! Clever. Still not right though. Come on, Kevin. You can do better than that," the chuckle in the demon king's voice made his blood boil.

"You want me to translate another tablet? We've been through this. It's not going to happen. I'll find a way away from you," he held his tone in check, despite the fact that he was terrified. He remembered the ways Crowley had to make you comply.

He didn't like the way that Crowley was enjoying this guessing game. He shook his head, trying to hide a grin that was breaking out across his face. "Fine! I'm not getting it. Stop playing games and tell me why you brought me here!" deep down he knew that yelling at the demon would accomplish nothing, but his fuse was shot.

"'Stop playing games'?" He repeated softly, "Stop playing games? Don't you understand Kevin? That's exactly why I brought you here. I loved the little games we played with each other."

He didn't even try to stop his face from contorting with confusion. He couldn't be serious. He always had a motive. A brilliant motive. This was just Crowley screwing with his mind, yet again.

His voice went soft and his tone was merely exasperated at this point, "What is it, really?"

Crowley gave a small chuckle, "I'm quite serious. The games of cat and mouse we used to play. I loved matching wits with you. You've got a mind made for chess. I brought you here to be my playmate."

Kevin swallowed hard and gave a small shudder. He didn't like the way that the demon had phrased that, "'Playmate'?"

"Oh? That's the part you picked up on? I lavished you in compliments, but I see straight where your mind went. That's fine by me. I'd like for you to dwell there," it was hard to miss the flirtatious tone to his voice.

Kevin was sitting up straight and he was sure all the color had drained from his face. His eyes bolted between the door and the King of Hell sitting comfortably at his desk. He knew it was a bad idea, but panicking wasn't good for anyone's thought process. He pulled himself up from the comfortable couch and made a dash for the door. He grasped the golden handle firmly in his hand, but his voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"By all means. You must remember. The genuine article lies beyond that door. If you want to take a stroll around, I won't object. Do you think you can handle yourself out there? Do you think you're ready to take a glance at hell in its full glory?" Crowley smirked when he noticed that Kevin removed his hand. He still stood there, staring at the door. But they both knew. They both knew that he wasn't going anywhere. They both knew that Crowley had won.

A/N: This is officially my 'Go Home You're Drunk' fanfic. And I'm sorry. But I'm also not sorry. I don't know how I feel about this. If you live reviews I will love you forever. Kevin is a bit short fused at this point, but he reverts to his cute snarky self after he calms down.


	2. Chapter 2: Silent Treatment

He tapped his fingers against the wood. Was he trying to annoy Crowley? Yes. Did he think it would work? No. Why was he still trying it then, one would wonder… Mostly boredom. He had calmed down. Now he decided to focus on one spot of the room and stare. Ignoring Crowley was the worst thing he could do to the demon right now.

"You're cute when you pout, sweetheart," his voice was deep and gruff. It sent a feeling through Kevin's spine. It was an odd feeling, but he knew to expect it by now.

He bit his tongue, metaphorically of course. He knew better than to give in that easily. Crowley wasn't even upset yet. Perhaps a little intrigued.

"Oh. I see. You're giving me the old silent treatment, are you?" he sounded a little amused, and barely tried to hide the mirth glittering in his eyes.

He barely twitched his lip, and then began to pick invisible lint from his clothes. He had noticed that those clothes he was wearing weren't anything he owned. Sure he owned black dress pants, but he had never known that his clothes were so low quality until he was wearing the no doubt high-end pair he was now. The black vest that rested on top of the red dress shirt definitely was a part of the same set as the pants. He rolled up the sleeves on the red dress shirt and had discarded the gold tie that had been carefully picked out when someone had dressed him like a doll.

"I thought you were more creative than this," Crowley gave a little smirk, put down whatever he had been interested in previously. He gave a little push from his chair and raised himself up to cross the span of the office.

He strolled up to the young man, his warm hand finding residence on his cheek. It took most of his restraint not to at least flinch away from the touch. He knew what Crowley was capable of. He knew all too well.

The smirk disappeared from the King's face, and he gave a small sigh, "You're supposed to be mature? Such childish tactics."

Wait… This was actually started to bother him, wasn't it? The King of Hell was actually getting upset about something as silly as the silent treatment. Of course. He was the type of person that always needed to be the center of attention. Denying him attention was something that would get on his nerves. This might just be a game worth playing.

At least that was his first thought. Crowley took a seat next to Kevin on the couch, sitting a little too close. He could feel his heartbeat quicken, and he tried to quell the unease building in his slight frame. He wanted to move. He didn't want to be anywhere near this man. If he moved then he lost this game. He wouldn't lose to Crowley.

His breath hitched in his throat. Only for a second. Crowley leaned forward suddenly and reached his hand forward. His fingers danced lightly on the back of his neck. Kevin's skin tingled. But he steeled himself, stubbornly staring at a decorate vase.

His mind raced when the demon king leaned forward. What was he going to do this time? He couldn't keep his eyes from darting back to the man without his permission.

He twitched. He couldn't help it. He clenched his jaw and he felt a spasm in his throat. He tried to control his breathing. Crowley planted a kiss on his Adam's apple, but the slight scruff of facial hair on his neck tickled. It wasn't that he felt anything for the demon, it was just an odd sensation. Frankly something that had never even occurred to him.

His time to think was quickly running out. Did he want to admit defeat and pull away? Then he could put some much wanted distance between the two of them. His pride screamed at the prospect. Then again, what would remain of his pride if he stayed?

He gasped when he felt teeth graze the sensitive area. He lost control of himself. He pushed and kicked as he tried to detach the elder. This was not what he had in mind! He hadn't really put much thought into how this game would end, but certainly not like this!

A humiliating whimper escaped his throat when he realized that he couldn't just pull away. Crowley had quite a grip on his shoulders, his mouth attached to his sensitive throat. He could feel teeth grazing against his skin, nowhere near breaking it. This was coupled with a strong suction that threatened to release more embarrassing noises.

He whimpered, clawing at the demon. He wasn't even sure what part he was touching and he didn't care. He just needed to get away. He wasn't ready for this. He would never be ready for this.

Crowley pulled back, his eyes narrowed the same way they did when he was calculating his plans. He watched as Kevin's chest heaved up and down, his eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath.

The world seemed to snap back into focus at a breakneck speed. Kevin scrambled out from underneath Crowley, unaware of his flushed skin, and his disheveled appearance. This was just the type of thing that made him the perfect playmate.

Kevin clutched the small section of skin that the Demon King had been so passionately attacking moments before. He could still feel the heat and slight moisture that tried to cling to him. He gave a small shudder.

A smug smirk crawled back on Crowley's face. He stood back up and straightened his tie, "I'm not quite sure if you've broken the rules of the whole 'Silent Treatment' game, but I know you've lost when it comes to ignoring me."

He walked forward and gave Kevin a strong pat on the back, "Don't worry, Kev," he lowered his voice, the tone dripping with seduction, "Sometimes there's no shame in losing."

A/N: I am getting better at writing Kevin? I'm trying my best to keep both of them in character. It's been quite a while since I've written a real story. I'll continue trying my hardest!


	3. Chapter 3: Our Song

Playmate Chapter 3: Our Song

No way. No freaking way. This just couldn't be happening. Sure. Crowley had flirted with him. But Crowley flirted with everyone. Everyone! That wasn't even an exaggeration. He never put any real stock into the thought that the King of Hell would ever actually try anything.

It wasn't really a secret that he was inexperienced. It didn't really take a genius to figure that out. Before he became the prophet, every minute of every day was planned out. No. Every second of every day was planned out. Even if he had a girlfriend, her life was the same way. Physical contact wasn't really something they got much time to have.

Of course he had kissed her. He had heated make-out sessions... Shamefully that was about as far as he has been. Then he started living life as a hermit with a perpetual headache. Both literally and metaphorically. (The obvious metaphor implications being the Winchesters.)

He knew that Crowley was just eating this up. How could he find his weakness so quick? Was he really that easy to read? Or was it that Crowley's act of flirting with anything that moved…. Wasn't actually an act at all. He snorted at the thought. Of course. It really had very little to do with him and all to do with Crowley's…. Interests?

He pulled himself off the ground and sat down on one of the room's armchairs. He wasn't so quick to sit back down on the couch. Even if Crowley was no longer seated there. Though sitting in the armchairs did mean that he would have to sit closer to the demon. It seemed that either way he was destined to lose.

A little smirk formed on Kevin's lips as a thought crossed his mind. He wasn't sure what the song was, but he began humming one of the many tunes Crowley had during his stay in the Winchester's basement.

It was surprising. It didn't seem to upset the Demon King in the least. He actually looked more amused than anything else. Why did his actions also have the opposite intended effect on him? Did he do it just to screw with him? It was a serious possible with that man...

"Mmmm. You're playing our song are you? That's sweet. Care to dance, darling?" he had a rather pleasant look on his face as he leaned forward on his folded hands.

Kevin scoffed, "Not a chance. You shouldn't even joke about that." Kevin folded his arms and made a note to drop his shoes on Crowley's desk making a loud unpleasant 'thunk'.

Crowley made a mock-shocked expression as he looked down at Kevin's feet, "Oh my. Such a rebel. Whatever have I gotten myself into?"

"Oh, yeah. Way more than you can handle," Kevin derided in a deadpan tone, hopefully knocking Crowley right off that ridiculous track.

The demon gave a low chuckle, sitting back in his chair, "Hmm… This could be a rather fun game in itself, don't you think?"

Kevin's feet fell off the table, slamming hard against the floor. It took him a minute to realize that it had indeed been involuntary movement on his own part and had nothing to do with Crowley's numerous powers. He wasn't really ready to engage in any more of Crowley's games at this point. Nor would he ever be, he told himself.

"Oh, come on Kev. I admit you're awfully cute when you're jumpy," he gave a little sigh that was supposed to indicate frustration, but Kevin was sure than it was all an act, "But I thought we were past that."

Kevin clicked his tongue, "When will you stop talking to me like we're friends? 'Past that'? We don't have any kind of relationship. You're only doing this to get on my nerves. I'm sure that you aren't seriously that deluded. Or just plain dumb."

Kevin wondered if saying what he did was a mistake. Crowley rose up from his desk. His shoes made an interesting click against the floor and he made a slow stroll to where Kevin had seated himself.

Kevin held himself back from flinching when Crowley rested a hand on his shoulder, leaning forward to whisper something into the Prophet's ear, "What our relationship is, what it entails. Maybe that's up for debate. But Kevin," he paused before uttering another pet name, "Love. You can't debate that there is a relationship between us."

He felt chills run down his spine. He wanted to swat the man away, but he knew. He knew deep down. Crowley was right. There was something between them. What was between them? He didn't know. He knew that there was hate. He had to admit that there was some sort of twisted fun he got from these games. What was between them? He didn't even want to think about it. It scared him to think about it.

He remained quiet, hoping that this wasn't taken that he had admitted defeat. Even though he knew it did. Why? Why did he keep playing games with Crowley when he knew that he would always lose? Because Crowley didn't give him a choice. He was stuck playing games with him, constantly struggled for the upper hand.

When he finally got the upper hand, how would he know that Crowley hadn't just given it to him? Being around the demon warped his sense of reality. It made him question everything. It made him paranoid. He hated it. But he couldn't escape it.

He felt himself flinch when Crowley grabbed his hand and pulled him from the armchair, coaxing him into a standing position. He made a strangled little growl as he was manipulated into a certain position. He gave a rather loud huff as he was forced into ballroom dancing as Crowley himself began to sing the tune they were to dance to.

"Okay," Kevin grumbled bitterly, "I'm starting to see why this is called hell."

A/N: Here we go. Another chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I know it's not a popular pairing, but that's part of why I feel like I should do my best with it. I don't really know how long I intend to make this story, so probably as long as I have inspiration.


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